Out Like A Light
by ReddiWhip
Summary: Death ends a life, not a relationship. K2
1. Death By Machinery

Hello! Oooh, my first story on this account. X3 Be warned: this has had very little editing from the first time I scribbled it down during Spanish class.

Enjoy!

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"**Have the courage to live. Anyone can die." –Robert Cody**

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"You stupid Jew!"

Kyle cracked into laughter as Cartman stared venomously at the radio. A few seconds before, the electronic device had been in the process of cranking out the first few notes of "Come Sail Away", causing the roundest member of our group to grimace in anticipation. The redhead in back with me (Cartman had called shotgun, and Stan was the only one we really trusted enough to drive) had grinned slyly and leaned forward into the front end of the car, shutting off the radio and covering the on/off switch with his hand. Cartman was trying desperately in vain to turn the thing back on, grumbling the lyrics he was missing under his breath. Not much had changed in all these years.

Yup, it was still fucking hilarious to watch...until I noticed something even better to focus my attention on. I struggled not to drool as my eyes fixated on Kyle's rear end, moving around every time the car went over a bump. Stan caught my lecherous gaze in the rear-view mirror and met it with a disapproving stare.

I merely leered back apologetically. Really, how could I not stare at it, especially when it was right in my face? Everyone knew that Kyle had a nice ass, no matter how much the easily embarrassed Jew denied it. Being the pervert I was, it was a fight to not just reach out and...

Oh, shit.

Kyle froze in surprise, giving Cartman his much needed opening; music wafted through the small space once more. His brunet adversary, not spotting the cause for Kyle's sudden silence, leaned back in a contented manner, closing his eyes.

Caught red-handed, I slowly withdrew my palm, scrunching my fingers into a fist in an attempt to demonstrate that I wouldn't try that again. Kyle didn't seem to notice.

"K-Kenny, did you just...did you just..."

Ohhh, he should have been punished for looking that cute and flustered. Flushed cheeks, averted gaze...simply adorable. I couldn't keep the pleased grin off of my face as he sank back down into his seat with a scandalized expression.

Stan, determined to ignore everything that had just happened, spoke abruptly: "We're here."

Where was here? The middle of nowhere.

I'm not exaggerating- one of Kyle's many uncles owned a small farm about an hour away from South Park, complete with a red barn and everything. Normally the redhead went there every year by himself, but this time, he'd brought us all along with him. Fun, fun. Well, if it was for Kyle, I could stand a few days. And I'd probably get better fed here than I ever did at home.

The long, dirt pathway up to the house seemed like miles, so I entertained myself by staring through the cornstalks, examining the ground where the plants grew from. I could hear the whir of machines somewhere close by.

Suddenly, something caught my eye: a twenty dollar bill, just lying there in on the ground. My eyes widened. I dove out into the stalks, my hand flying out to grab the money on impulse, and then the last thing I heard before dying was Kyle shrieking my name in fear.

Apparently, one is not supposed to run out in front of farming machines with sharp, moving blades just to grab twenty bucks. Hmm.

Who knew?

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_Death by Machinery;_

_Fatalities per year: 350_


	2. Death By Medical Misadventures

Hello again! C: Here's part two. Shorter than the first one, but hey, that's just how I roll. Not even gonna point out the lack of editing anymore. XD Ah, well, it's more for fun anyways.

Enjoy~!

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"**Death is so terrifying because it is so ordinary. It happens all the time." -Susan Cheever**

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I don't know when I started to feel this way- about Kenny, of all people.

I mean, a few years ago, Kenny could've died and life would've gone on, because we knew he'd be okay. Now I knew he'd be okay, and still couldn't calm down.

"Dude, chill." Stan told me without looking up from the National Geographic magazine he'd picked up. A bear snarled at me from the cover.

I frowned in indignation, opening my mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut again. If I let on how worried I was that Kenny might be in pain, scared, uncomfortable, anything, then Cartman would immediately pipe with some sort of snide comment about me being gay for Kenny. Which, as true as that was...dammit, I just didn't want anyone to know, so I was gonna keep my mouth shut until Death came for me too. Probably even after that.

Speaking of blonde reason-we-were-in-the-hospitals, Kenny had, as always, gotten into a really bad accident. At least it wasn't that machine from my uncle's farm again, like last month; instead, a commercial van had hit Kenny right as he started to cross the street. But this time we'd managed to get him to the hospital in time. There was a slight chance that he would live, at least until an accident decided to go after that bright orange parka of his.

"Kyle. C'mon, sit down." Stan's impatient voice brought me out of my reverie. "Kenny will probably be fine, and if he's not, he'll just be back tomorrow, right?"

I nodded reluctantly. He was right. It was silly to be pacing around like this, making myself more worked up. Slowly, I plopped into the chair on the other side of Stan, hoping the squirming feeling in my stomach would go away soon.

The sudden sound of a door opening caused us all to look up sharply. An anxious looking nurse dressed in white clothing walked forward until she stood in front of the three of us, biting her lip nervously. Expectant expressions adorned my, Stan's, and Cartman's faces.

"I...I regret to inform you that, well..." The nurse took a deep, shuddering breath, continuing in a hushed tone: "We...we have a new trainee, and he tends to get...excited...when operating." A guilty wince.

We sat in silence, trying to make sense of this statement.

"So..." Cartman spoke up. "You're basically saying that they chopped his body up into little pieces."

"Oh, heavens..." She began, sounding startled by his lack of tact. "Not...not _little_ pieces...I..." It was then that she cut off, wringing her hands and scuttling away.

I dropped my head into my hands, shaking it from side to side, sighing. Only Kenny.

Only Kenny.

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_Death by medical misadventures;_

_Fatalities per year: 500_


	3. Death By Gas Poisoning

For all who are still reading this, thank you! :3 And also thanks to TheNobodiesHeart for reviewing~.

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**"For death begins with life's first breath and life begins at a touch of death." -John Oxenham**

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I've always been known as the poorest kid in school. Kinda annoying sometimes, but a fact of life. I do what I can to find odd jobs that I can support myself with, seeing as my parents don't do shit except for get drunk and smoke. Well, life gives you what it gives you. Can't change that.

The latest job I'd found was one I'd never actually done before- auto repair. Apparently something in the Tweak's car had broken down, causing it to make weird noises whenever they tried to start it. Honestly, I didn't see what the big deal was; maybe the car itself was just old. It wouldn't have been too uncommon for it to make strange sounds. But hey, if Tweak's dad was too cheap to get a real mechanic to look at a problem that probably didn't even exist, then good for me. Kenny McCormick, the poor boy desperate for money, arrives to save the day!

Anyways...it took me about nine tries to get that damn truck running, no matter how many times I kicked at it. All in all? Ten minutes, wasted on simply seeing if the description matched reality. One hundred fifty dollars, I kept telling myself. One hundred fifty dollars.

As soon as the vehicle's engines sputtered to life, I let out a sigh. The next inhale brought an odd scent to my nose that smelled kind of like...well, I have no idea what the hell it smelled like, but it smelled bad. Passing this off as something normal for an old car, I headed around the side of the pickup, ready to lift up the hood. Honestly, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I think I stood out there breathing in that filthy smell for at least an hour while trying to figure out what was wrong.

When you're working, your thoughts tend to wander. Where did mine wander? Kyle. Yup, nerdy Jew extraordinaire. I wasn't blind, or stupid; I saw the way he looked at me. Why he would go after a washout like me is a mystery. I mean, the guy's a genius. He could get any girl or guy he wanted, just with that adorable smartness of his.

But I'm not that selfless. If he asked me to go out with him or something, I wouldn't say no just for his benefit. Hell, I won't deny that he's attractive. I'd just only accept if he came to me first...

During these thoughts, my vision had been blurring considerably without my notice, but it suddenly flashed black. What...? I realized I couldn't smell that disgusting aroma anymore, either. I was so dizzy...

Alright, so I admit, maybe it wasn't too good of an idea to fix the Tweak's car. But hey, how was I supposed to know it would give me gas poisoning? I mean...who does that even happen to?

Ah, rhetorical questions. Gotta love 'em. Here's another one: will Kyle miss me at all for the few hours I'm in Hell?

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_Death by Gas Poisoning;_

_Fatalities per year: 700_


End file.
